


First Time For Everything

by cordeliadelayne



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dancing, Frottage, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, In Public, Kissing, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Resolutions, Semi-Public Sex, Slow Dancing, acting on desire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 06:00:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8957965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: Coulson doesn't do New Year's resolutions. Luckily for him, Clint does.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spikedluv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikedluv/gifts).



> Written as a Christmas present for the lovely spikedluv who gave the prompt “resolutions”.

Coulson had never been one for vacations, no matter the season. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, they were all the same to him. They'd lost any kind of meaning after his father died and his mother was no longer interested in celebrating the big occasions, even birthdays were passed over with little fanfare. As far as he was concerned they were the best times of year to catch up on paperwork (despite popular opinion, not his favourite part of the job) and a chance to brainstorm the trickier missions with other agents who didn't celebrate.

But this year, this year Fury had ordered him to attend the agency's New Year's Eve party. He'd done it with a scowl and a threat of castration, but Coulson still felt he could have refused if he'd really wanted to. Except it was Natasha's first year with SHIELD and he was for the moment still her nominal supervisor and ought to make sure she met the right people, and learn which ones to avoid.

The fact that Clint would be attending for the first time since _he_ had joined SHIELD, played absolutely no part in his decision.

* * * * *

Coulson liked to play up the idea that he wasn't interested in his appearance and that his suits were a business expense and nothing more. This was, of course, a lie.

In reality he was very careful with his suits, chose them with as much care as he did every other aspect of a mission, and that was how he had decided to view the New Year's Eve party. It might not be healthy but Coulson was pretty sure it was the only way he was going to get through the day with his insanity still intact. Possibly.

So it was with some careful thought that he chose a dark blue suit and deliberately wore the tie that Clint had bought him several Christmases ago, lined with a silver bullet pattern if you looked hard enough. Not that Coulson was supposed to know who his Secret Santa gift had been from, but he knew Clint well enough even back then to realise who was responsible.

By the time he was ready his nerves had completely gone. This was just a mission, like any other. This was just a mission.

* * * * *

This was not just a mission.

Coulson really hated his brain right about now. The minute he'd walked into the ball room of the hotel Fury had hired out all his ideas of treating this like it didn't matter had gone out the window on spotting Clint and Natasha, dancing together in the middle of the room, not caring that they were the only ones on the dance floor and the band was taking a break.

They looked beautiful and Coulson's heart ached. This had been a very bad idea.

* * * * *

Coulson was not hiding. Senior agents did not hide in bathrooms or out on balconies in the freezing cold.

They also remembered to at least grab a drink before hiding on a freezing cold balcony.

“Hey,” Clint said, and Coulson honest to god jumped. “Whoa! Are you feeling okay? I didn't think anyone could sneak up on the great Agent Coulson.”

“I'm off duty,” Coulson said. He tried to get his heart to slow down and didn't dare turn to look at Clint.

“Uh huh,” Clint replied. “Are you really okay?” He placed a glass of champagne on the balcony rail between them.

“Yes, sorry. I'm not really a fan of New Year.”

“Really? I would have thought it was your thing, new starts, fresh beginnings, resolutions.”

“Resolutions are pointless. No one ever sticks to them.”

“Huh, all right then,” Clint said. “Drink up.”

Clint scooted up until he was sitting on the balcony rail. Coulson was forced to turn to look at him, only if to reassure himself that Clint was holding on properly, even though he knew it was unnecessary.

“I just...” Coulson stopped and took a sip of his drink. It was good, Fury never skimped on the luxuries on the holidays.

Clint waited patiently for Coulson to gather his thoughts. When it looked like he wasn't going to, he took a drink of his own and began to talk.

“I was 12 before I saw my first proper fireworks. Me and Barney snuck into a fancy party when we were travelling through Miami. Got a spot on the beach away from the crowds so no one would notice us. It wasn't even that good, not like some of the ones I've seen since – not like _Sydney_ \- but it was the place I made my first ever New Year's resolution.”

Coulson realised as Clint had been talking that he'd drifted closer to the other man, until his hip and Clint's leg were touching. Clint didn't seem to mind.

“Did you keep your resolution?”

“Won't telling you make it not true?”

Coulson smiled. “I think that's only birthday wishes.”

“Ah, now those I never made,” Clint said. Clint looked at Coulson, _really looked_ at Coulson and he shivered. “You're cold. Let's go inside.”

Coulson wanted to say it wasn't cold but Clint had his arm on Coulson's elbow and was already leading him back into the ballroom.

* * * * *

They were separated soon after, Maria pulling Clint away before they'd reach the buffet. Coulson ended up grabbing himself some shrimp and then added a portion for Clint, in case they found each other again.

He found a quiet table and sat down, nodding at the two agents opposite him, Woolfe and Trudero, who stayed only the required amount of time to be polite before heading over to the dance floor.

Natasha took one of their seats, and put down a slice of cake before Coulson, with two forks. She took one and started to eat the cake before saying anything.

Coulson hesitated a few seconds and then took the other fork. He still was never quite sure where he was with Natasha.

“Thank you, Miss Romanov”.

“Natasha,” she said. “I think it's time you called me Natasha.”

Coulson was almost lost for words. He definitely was once Clint found them and sat down next to Coulson, pressing a hand to Coulson's thigh once, quickly, before letting go.

“Any of that for me?” Clint asked.

Coulson pushed the plate of shrimp over and Clint began eating them with his fingers.

Natasha and Coulson shared a conspiratorial smile. Clint stuck out his tongue at the both of them.

“Do you ever make New Year's resolutions?” Clint asked Natasha. Natasha looked at him as if he'd lost his mind.

“Why would I do that?”

“Well, you know,” Clint said, waving a shrimp around, “tradition.”

“I don't have much time for tradition. I'm surprised you do.”

“Could make our own traditions,” Clint said. He had turned to look away, over at the dance floor, his expression hidden from Coulson and Natasha.

“I suppose we could,” Natasha agreed. “You two should dance.”

Coulson nearly choked on his own shrimp. “I don't -”

“We could,” Clint said. He turned to look at Coulson. “If you wanted.”

Coulson tried to think of a reason why he shouldn't that wouldn't come out as insulting, but failed. “All right,” he agreed. Natasha looked pleased and Clint looked amused.

“Well then, Phil Coulson, would you care to have the next dance?” Clint asked, standing up and holding out his hand.

“I'm not above locking you out of the gun range you know,” Coulson said in reply, but he still allowed Clint to pull him over to the dance floor. Everyone already there pretended not to be paying attention; Coulson mentally took note of those who looked the most convincing about it.

“I'd just break in.”

“Severe lack of discipline,” Coulson said. “Never found a rule he wouldn't break. Talks back. Argumentative. Stubborn...”

Clint snorted. “My previous handlers were all idiots.”

“And your current one?” Coulson asked, realising that whilst being pressed close together was probably not the best time to be asking that question.

“Needs improvement,” Clint said with a grin. Then he leaned forward, as the slow dance began to slow even further, and whispered into Coulson's ear, “especially in the acting on what he wants department.”

Something inside Coulson snapped then and without saying a word he started to steer Clint off the dance floor and into the corridor.

Before Clint could ask what was going on, Coulson was pushing him up against the wall and kissing him. Knowing a good thing when he saw it Clint spread his legs and pulled Coulson even closer. When they pulled apart they both looked wrecked and were panting hard. Coulson rested his head against Clint's forehead and tried to find something to say.

“Always take the opportunities that come your way,” Clint said.

Coulson blinked, confused. “I'm sorry?”

“That's my resolution. That first year, and every year since. What's that saying – life is what happens when you're busy making plans? I don't make plans, I act.”

“And how's that been working out for you?” Coulson asked with a soft smile.

“Not too bad. Jury's still out on how this year's resolution is going to go.”

“I think you might be on to something.”

“Yeah?” Clint whispered. Coulson just nodded and kissed him again. They only pulled apart when Natasha appeared next to them.

“The fireworks are about to start. I did not think you would want to miss that.”

Coulson realised he was blushing, but Clint just looked smug.

“I wouldn't dream of missing the fireworks,” Clint said, winking at Natasha who rolled her eyes and muttered something in Russian under her breath.

“I'm reconsidering all of my life choices,” Coulson said, deadpan and laughed outright as Clint pouted and then wriggled his eyebrows.

“I'm also reconsidering my life choices,” Natasha agreed, though she was smiling as she said it and put her arm though Coulson's as they walked back towards the balcony. Clint followed, hand resting on the small of Coulson's back.

They found a space near the back that gave them a perfect view of the fireworks. Natasha looked more relaxed than Coulson had ever seen her and all the trouble and worry of bringing her in seemed to vanish, just like that.

Clint put his hand into Coulson's and Coulson pulled him into another kiss, not caring what anyone around them might say or think. Clint smiled into the kiss and pulled back a little to smirk.

“Made a resolution yet?” he asked.

“Yes,” Coulson replied. He leaned in to whisper in Clint's ear, before pulling at the lobe with his teeth. “I promise to get you into my bed before the fireworks stop.”

Clint groaned and leaned into Coulson, his erection obvious in his tight fitting trousers. “I have a room here, at the hotel,” Clint said, a little breathlessly. Coulson moved his free hand down Clint's chest and pressed it against Clint's erection.

“Forward planing, I approve,” Coulson said.

“Fuck,” Clint muttered as Coulson kept squeezing his cock. “Phil, if you keep...I'm going to...”

“Nobody's watching,” Coulson said, heart beating wildly. And it was true. Natasha had moved over to stand by some of the other newbies and he and Clint were now in the shadows at the back. Everyone's attention was on the fireworks with none to spare for them.

Clint whimpered and then bit his lip as Coulson pressed him up against the wall, his own erection pressing into Clint's thigh.

Coulson kissed Clint then, hot and dirty and putting everything into it that he'd meant to say for years now but had never found the courage. And all the time he kept his hand moving, squeezing and pressing into Clint's cock as it strained in his trousers until Clint was trying to push himself forward, trying to get even more friction, panting into Coulson's mouth, desperately scrabbling at Coulson's' back.

“Want you,” Clint panted into Coulson's mouth. “Need you to fuck me. Take me apart. Need to feel your skin.”

“Yes, fuck, yes, I'm going to take you apart,” Coulson whispered back. “Going to make you _scream.”_

Clint let his head fall back against the wall and Coulson scrapped his teeth along Clint's neck, making Clint buck up, the fireworks a dull roar in his ears as he came apart, legs trembling and only held upright by Coulson's strong arms pressing into him.

Coulson rocked into Clint's thigh, seeking his own orgasm, spurred on by Clint breathlessly repeating his name until he stiffened and collapsed into Clint just as the fireworks display ended.

“Bet New Year's resolutions are looking pretty great right about now,” Clint panted. Coulson laughed into Clint's shoulder, hoping that no one was looking in their direction.

“I can think of a few to make the next year really special,” he replied after he got his breathing under control.

Clint chuckled. “I bet you can.”

Coulson straightened up and turned Clint's head so they were facing each other. “My first one is going to be make sure I never take you for granted.” He kissed Clint before he could say anything back, but Clint's pleased look was enough.

* * * * * *

The next New Year's Eve and every one after that, a bottle of scotch appeared on Fury's desk.

He pretended to have no idea where it came from.


End file.
